The Commonplace Effect
by diligentfail
Summary: Have you ever thought it would be cool if you got sucked into Mass Effect? You could fight bad guys, fall in love, and help save the universe. Sounds cool, huh? That is what I thought until I actually ended up here. I'm a blind musician with little to no fighting experience, and yet I have been recruited to help save the day. Go me.
1. Chapter 1

A.N.: Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at a story and I really hope you like it. Unfortunately, I will make some mistakes along the way and i don't mind any constructive criticism. Please review and let me know how I am doing. :)

* * *

"Miss are you okay?'' an slightly familiar, male voice asks me.

Oh God, I think as try and fail to pull myself up into a sitting position. What the heck happened to me last night? All I remember was going to the bar with a couple of friends, Alex and Megan. I must have gotten myself piss drunk, because I don't remember anything after a couple shots. Now, I am lying on a cold smooth floor that smells strongly of disinfectant.

"Yeah, I'm fine.' I reply as I finally manage to sit up. Unfortunately, being blind does not allow me take in my surroundings, so I have no idea where I am. All I have to go on is my hearing and smell. I know I am not at the bar, because this place smells…well, clean. Almost like a hospital. I also hear an assortment of languages that sound rather foreign. They all sound very concerned, and maybe a little scared. Yup, I'm definitely at a hospital. Maybe, I passed out or hit my head.

Facing the direction of the voice, I ask "Am I at a hospital? Did I get hurt?" It would explain the throbbing spot on the back of my head.

"No Miss. You are currently located in the middle of the Presidium Commons," the stranger replies after some hesitation.

"Oh okay… Wait what!" I exclaim as it hits me. There is no freaking way I am in some made of universe. Some jerk must be playing a joke on me. It must be Alex; he was the one who let me listen in as he played the whole series. "Oh haha. This is so funny. Play a practical joke on the blind girl. Tell her that she is in some make believe universe, so that you all can have a big laugh." I angrily say as I get into a standing position. "Who is behind this oh so funny joke? Alex, if its you, I am totally going to kick your ass."

'Umm, Miss, I do not know who you are talking to and I am not lying to you. We are currently standing in the Presidium Commons."

"Shut up!" I yell. "I am so sick of assholes trying to mess with me."

"Miss, please calm down. It would be in your best interest."

"Don't tell me what is in my best interest!" I shout as I try to push myself past the man. Unfortunately, this just aggravates him and he grabs ahold of me. In that instant, I know he is telling the truth.

"Your hand," I mumble with awe.

"Yes, what about it?" he asks impatiently as he moves me away from the crowd and to where I am guessing C-Sec is.

"It's so rough," I mutter incoherently. I can't believe what I am feeling, because his hand does not feel like a normal human hand. Not to mention the fact that his hand is extremely coarse, but it apparently has three fingers and talons on the end. What the freak? Either this is the real deal or someone has gone way too far with this joke. "Wait," I suddenly say.

"What."

Before he could even react, I grab his face. While I am not a big fan of people saying OMG, there is just one thing I have to say. Oh My God. His face is like nothing I have ever felt before. While I would like to believe that he is currently wearing a mask, I know that is not true. His face feels like part of a living thing. In the split second that I am touching his face, I can feel rough and uneven skin, his mandibles, his snub like nose, a device of some sort over his left eye, and spikes where hair should be. From Alex's past descriptions, this man is a turian.

After I come to this realization, the turian quickly grabs my hands and shoves me in front of him. "Miss, stop this now. I am taking you into custody for disorderly conduct. You are not helping yourself." Too stunned to say anything, I just let him lead me into his headquarters. Man, it's going to be a long day.

* * *

As soon as we step though the sliding doors of C-Sec headquarters, my guard scans my fingers, apparently searching for a birth certificate or some form of I.D. Guess, what he finds? Nothing, nada, zip. He does the scan several more times, probably searching different databases. Still nothing. Letting out an angry growl, my guard turns to me and drags me into an interrogation room. After shutting the door, he quickly asks, "Who are you? You don't have records from anywhere. Not Earth, the Citadel, any major world, or even colonies."

"Why don't you take a guess?" I respond with sarcasm.

"I have a better idea." Without a moments notice, he grabs me with this three fingered hand and pulls out everything in my pockets. All I have on me is what I brought to the bar: my phone, my headphones, and my wallet with my California's ID card (hey, it's not like I can get a driver's license). And you know what my guard does as soon he sees them? He freaks the fuck out.

"Who are you?" he asks again, completely confused.

"What? You can't read?"

"Yes, I can read English," he says with a snarl. "How do you think you can understand me? Don't think I didn't notice your lack of a translator." Getting back to his interrogation, he says "On this card, it says you, Cassandra Isabella Castillo, were born in 1988!"

"Yeah, so."

"It's 2182. That is two centuries old, and I know you humans can't live that long, even with all the technology in the universe," he says with a bark. "What did you do? Make a fake ID just to mess with C-Sec?"

"No of course not!" I reply just as furiously. I hate it when people accuse me of things I didn't do.

"Then what is it? You weren't born in 1988, that's for sure."

"Yes, I was!"

"Then prove it."

"Look at my other belongings. You'll find headphones and a cellphone. That cellphone is over a century and half years old. How..."

Letting his curiosity take over, the turian cuts in and asks, "Is that what this is?"

Confused, I answer, "Yeah, what did you think it was?"

"Honestly, I had no idea. Cell phones don't exist anymore. We just use our omni-tools now." Getting back on track, he continues "But that is beside the point. Where did you get this technology?"

"From home."

"Stop being so vague. Just tell me," he practically begs.

"I don't know what else to tell you."

"Fine," he says letting the issue drop, probably figuring that I wouldn't give him a straight answer. "Then can you explain to me how you got into the most secure area of the Citadel without a proper I.D?"

Ah, the question that I have been dreading the most; I was starting to wonder if he was ever going to ask. Okay, I got to think. What the hell happened last night? Let's start at the beginning. I went to the bar with my brother and best friend, who were just try to cheer me up after I got reject by yet another record label. I had a couple of shots with Megan and then I sang karaoke with Alex, which I totally kicked his ass at by the way (I have my Masters in Performance for voice). And after that I have no effin clue. It feels like a total blackout. None of my current memories hold an explanation for me, and I still don't even believe that I am in this fucked-up universe.

I, of course, do not have an answer for him. Letting out a defeated sigh, I reply, "I don't know."

"What do you mean 'I don't know?'"

"I mean exactly what I said. I have no idea how I got here. I just woke up in the middle of the presidium, with a bunch of aliens surrounding me."

"No, that is not possible," the turian, says more to himself than me.

"It is," I reply firmly. "Believe me I would tell you if I knew anything, but I don't. I'm just as confused as you are." I really hope he trusts me.

After a few minutes of silence contemplation, he tells me "I've got to bring this to my superiors."

Grabbing my arm once again, the turian gently leads me to a cell. "I'm sorry, but you have to wait here until everything is sorted out." Turning to leave, he pauses, "My name is Officer Vakarian by the way." And with that, he turns and leaves.

* * *

While it is cool I briefly met Garrus, it is so not cool that I am locked up in a cell. This is just great. It's not like someone can bail me out, if they even let you do that I guess. I can't call anybody, and I have no lawyer. Well, this sucks. I am going to live the rest of my life in prison, or at least for a few years. To make matters worse, once Garrus's superiors start asking me how I got here, I won't have an explanation. Heck, I don't even understand. (Not to mention the fact that I made an awesome first impression on Garrus. Go me!)

Even though I am still kind of freaking out, the cell that I'm in is actually comfortable, and no, I'm not being sarcastic. The cot I am currently laying on seems big enough to fit two very large men, and being only 5' 5" gives me plenty of room. The room even has a sink, toilet, and screen, which would allow me some privacy should I decide to use it. Not that I could tell if they were looking at me or not.

It just doesn't make sense. Traveling between universes just isn't possible! Even if it were, technology is not capable of this yet. The only way I could have gotten here is if someone, or something rather, put me here. Why anyone would put a blind musician here is anyone's guess. It's not like I could make a difference or anything. Yeah, let me grab a gun and shoot at the reapers; I probably end of shooting my own allies. The only advantage I have is that I know exactly what and where something is going to happen. "Wait, that's it!" I shout at the ceiling.

"Took you long enough," a familiar voice tells me.

"Wah!" I yell as I jump up and promptly fall off the cot. After I pick myself of the floor, I stare in the direction of the voice. "Uh…. Captain Anderson?"

"That is my name," he says with a chuckle.

"What are you doing here? And what do you mean 'Took you long enough?'"

"I am here to visit you of course. And you don't have to worry about C-Sec anymore. They are not pressing charges." After a few moments, I here a beep signifying the door to my cell has opened. "Come along" is all he says before he turns and starts to walk away. Jumping up, I follow Anderson out of the room and C-Sec, and into the Presidium Commons.

After several silent seconds of following Anderson, I can't take it anymore. "Where are you taking me? And what did you mean before?"

Laughing at my impatience, the Captain turns to me and says, "All I good time. For now, all you have to know is that we are going somewhere private." At this, I stop and glare at his voice.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't. But if you don't follow, you will never know how or why you are here."

Sighing loudly, I decide to follow the evasive man.

* * *

Eventually, Anderson and I make it to the residential area of the Citadel. From what I can gather, we appear to be heading into the upper-class area. Taking a second for myself, I pause and listen to everything around me. I can hear water bubbling in streams and ponds, and the beautiful songs of birds. The smell of lavender and gardenias seems to permeate the air, while I gently warm up as sunshine washes over my skin. Everything just feels so… serene. Seeing my awe, Anderson laughs and gently nudges me forward. As we continue on our path, I can't help but think about the destruction that is to take place. Why the Reapers would destroy something so beautiful is beyond me.

After several more minutes of walking, we finally reach our destination. It seems rather secluded for the Citadel, even more so than before. I don't hear anything besides wildlife and the sound of our feet hitting the ground. Anderson leads me into a building and up a flight of stairs. After a couple of turns, I am brought into a room and seated.

Seating himself in the opposite chair, Anderson turns to me and states, "So I guess you have a couple of questions for me."

"Yeah, I have a couple of questions for you," I growl, irritated that I couldn't ask my questions until now. "How do you know me?"

"I've known you for quite some time now. But we met at the bar last night," he says with a smug smile. I can hear it in his stupid voice.

"What?"

"We met last night after you had a couple shots. Don't you remember our conversion?"

"No, of course not! The last thing I remember was singing karaoke. Everything after that was a blur."

"Huh," he says after a some thought, "I better remind you then." Standing up, he walks over to me and presses his hand to my forehead.

Trying to pull his hand off, I yell, "Get off of me, you as…" Before I could finish that nice thought, I fall forward and get sucked into my own memories.

* * *

"Ha, that was awesome!" I yell at Alex. Megan just laughs along and says, "Yeah, you totally sucked out there."

"Yeah, well, what do you expect? I'm no singer," he responds with a defeated sigh as we walk up to the bar. Facing the direction of the clinking glasses, I hold up three fingers and wait for the bartender to come over.

"Three shots?"

"Yeah, the strongest you got," I say with a crazy smile.

"Alright, boss lady. Everclear, it is," the bartender laughs.

"Thanks," I say as he hands them to me. Turning towards Alex and Megan, I hand one to her and shove the other glass in Alex's direction. "Here, maybe this will numb the pain of your humiliation, you big baby."

"Well, at least my humiliation is making you feel better," he says as we clink our glasses together. In one fell swoop, we down our glasses and order a couple more. After 20 minutes of this, Alex and I are completely plastered. Megan, on the other hand, has passed out and is now lying on her side; let's just say she doesn't handle her alcohol very well.

I, on the other hand, handle it very well; I'm a depressive drunk, "Oh my god," I slur I as face Alex, "I suck."

Knowing exactly what I was talking about, he grabs my shoulders and tells me, "No you don't. I do. Remember what happened on…" Suddenly, Alex jumps out of his seat and makes gagging noises. "I've got to go," is all he says before he rushes towards a restroom.

As soon as he is gone, I slump forward in my chair. "Great, all alone and no one to talk to. My best friend is passed out and my brother is throwing up all over the restroom."

"Maybe, I can help with that," a deep voice tells me. He slides into the chair next to me and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah," I reply with a wry smile. "I mean as good as a drunk 25 year old can be who has accomplished little in life."

"Do you really think you have accomplished so little?" he asks with curiosity.

For some reason, I feel completely relaxed when I to talk to him. He honestly seems interested in what I have to say, and so I tell him. "Yeah, I mean sure, I just graduated college and received my masters in Performance for voice, but I haven't really done anything to make a difference. I want my life to mean something. Even though I might be a singer one day, there is no guarantee I can even make it and that I will be able to reach people with my music. I mean look at what happened today; another label rejected me. There are just too many things that can go wrong."

"So, you want to make a difference?"

"Yeah. I think most people do, but most never get the chance or they are just too lazy. They just march along and get on with their lives. I don't want that to be me," I finish with a deject sigh.

"What if I could help you?"

"What?" I ask with surprise.

"What if I could give you that chance? What if you could save trillions of lives?"

Without any hesitation, I say "Of course."

"And would you give up everything you have, in order to do this?"

"In a heartbeat," I say, not fully realizing what's going on.

"Good," he says with a smile in his voice. The last thing I hear is his finger snapping.


	2. Chapter 2

With his the sound of his fingers still ringing in my ears, I wake up to find myself back in the chair with a blanket covering my body. I guess he must of put it on me when I passed out. Hmm, that was kind of him. Pulling the blanket down, I listen for any sound of Anderson. After a second, I can hear the rustle of pots and pans coming downstairs. Deciding to investigate, I pull myself up and make my way silently out of the room.

Or at least I try too. After a couple of steps, I end up hitting my leg against a coffee table and stumble over it. God, I hate new places. Right now, this whole lay out is unknown to me and that is just a pain in the ass. Usually, I just move around by memory, or ask somebody for help. Unfortunately, I am all alone and it's not like I want to ask Anderson for help. Realizing that each step must be deliberate and careful, I place my hands out in front of me and move at an agonizingly slow pace. I almost trip a couple more times, but I end up making it safely out of the room and down the stairs.

As I walk into the kitchen, I am greeted by a familiar scent, Tortilla Española, a fried omelet-like dish that is made out of potatoes. "I've made your favorite."

After slowly making my way to the table, I take a seat and wait to be served. "How did you know?"

"I know everything about you," he says in a semi-serious tone. Setting my food down in front of me, he continues. "Your name is Cassandra Isabella Castillo, but you often go by Cassie. Your mother and father are Leonardo Castillo and Julia Emerson. Your older brother is Alejandro Castillo, but you often call him Alex. While you love your brother, you can't help but mess with him. When Alex was about nine, he supposedly peed his bed on a daily basis, but it was really your fault. Every night you would dip his hand in warm water and wait for him to wet himself."

At this commit, my mouth falls open. How did he know that? No one, not even my brother, knows that was me. Seeing the surprise on my face, Anderson chuckles and resumes his speech. "When you turned ten, your family was facing poverty. Not knowing what to do, your father decided to join the military. While your father survived his tour of duty, he was no longer the same. He was often quiet or withdrawn, and when he did talk to you, it was often through self-defense lessons. Eventually, your father committed suicide, leaving your family without a provider. You mother and brother both got jobs, even though Alex was only 17 at the time. Through it all, you somehow managed to succeed in school and excel in music. You were even good enough to get a scholarship to UCLA. You received both your graduate and under-grad degrees from there."

Still trying to deny the truth, I laugh at him. "Hah, all you know is facts about me. Anyone can find that out if they ask around."

"Even he fact about your brother?" he says with amusement. After a small moment of hesitation, he adds, "Very well. Let's do it your way. Would you like me to tell you something else?"

"Be my guest," I say as I get comfortable and begin eating.

"Alright," he says with a grin in his voice. "Let's talk about your love life."

"Wait, what?" I ask with food half way to my mouth.

Not letting me stop him, Anderson continues, "At the age of eleven, you received your first kiss. While it was okay, something just didn't feel right about it, and you soon realized that you liked girls more. Trying to be a good Catholic, you kept it to yourself and tried to push the feelings away. However, that changed when you went to college; you fell in love with a girl in your chemistry class, Monica Welles. When you brought Monica home to meet your family, it was rather funny. Your brother and mother claimed to have known for years. They weren't surprised at all. Unfortunately, this relationship was short lived. Monica soon moved away to the east coast for her graduate degree and eventually, you drifted apart. That was your one and only serious relationship. To this day, part of you is still in love with Monica."

The whole time he has been talking, I have been frozen in my chair with my spoon still positioned in the air. Finding the will to move, I put my spoon back down and glare in the direction of the now silent man. "How do you know all of this?"

"I've been watching you for some time now, and I believe you are just what we need to defeat the reapers."

"So that's what you meant before," I mumble as I rub my face with my hand. "But this doesn't make sense. Why me out of all people? I'm just a blind musician."

"Don't sell yourself short," Anderson scolds me. "I am willing to bet you can take me in hand to hand combat." With a small snicker he adds, "Maybe even Shepard."

"Even if that is true, that still doesn't answer why you choose me."

"Because of our conversation at the bar," he says with a smile. "I have been looking for someone who wants to make a difference. You won't believe how tough that is. Most people want to help for the fame or money. You, on the other hand," he says with a poke to my shoulder," want to do it out of the goodness of your heart. You actually want to make a difference in the world. Combine, this with the fact that you know everything that is to take place, you are the perfect person for the job."

Facing his voice, I tell him "You know that just sounds like a load of crap, right? I bet there are hundreds of people out there who fit that description and you could have chosen any of them, but you chose me. Why? Hell, you seem to know what is going to happen already. Why don't _you_ help Shepard or whatever it is you want me to do?"

At this, Anderson laughs out loud. "Haha, you're right! I probably could do your job, but unfortunately, I have my own roll to fulfill. And as to why I specially choose you… I thought it would be the most interesting."

Ignoring his stupid comment, I ask him something that's been on my mind, "So... you know you are part of a video game in my universe, right?"

"Of course, who do you think gave Bioware the idea? Do you really think they are that creative?"*

"Huh, I guess that makes sense. But do you know the future in the first place?"

After this, he is quite, probably trying to figure out if he should tell me the truth. A couple of minutes go by before he answers. "Simply put, I'm a god."

"What!" I gasp. "Your God!" Crap, and I've been mean to him.

"No no," he quickly amends. "What I mean is that I am like a god. I'm omniscience and omnipotent, but not invincible nor invulnerable to the reapers. I've seen what happens in a future without you here, and it doesn't end well. Not for me or for trillions of other people. You, however, can change that. You know exactly what's going to happen, and therefore, you can change it. Neither Ashley nor Kaiden has to die at Virmire. You can nudge Shepard into making the right decision. Everyone from Mass Effect 2 can live. Don't you see? You can help make a difference in the lives of trillions of people. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

He has me there. My whole life I have craved the chance to make a difference in the world. Now, I am having that chance served on a silver platter with a side of whip cream. But do I want to give up everything I love? "What if I said no? Would you take me back home, to my family and friends?"

"Yes," he answers without any hesitation. "Like you said, we have hundreds of others to choose from. But I chose you."

"And if I say yes, what will everyone think happened to me?"

At this Anderson laughs, clearly having the answer planned long ago. "They will be told you moved to Europe in search of a new opportunities and love. If you stay, I will send them updated photos of you, along with postcards from places you have "visited." From time to time, you can even make calls on you phone, as long as it doesn't affect your duties. They will believe you are fine, and may even be happy for you. If they send you anything, I will give it to you. And… if you die," he continues with a frown, "they will be notified."

Wait, what? "If I die?! I thought you said I could make a difference? How can I do anything if I am dead?"

Anderson just responds with a stupid cliché, "Nothing in life is guaranteed. Most likely you won't, but I can't promise you will be fine."

Frowning, I consider my options. Okay, I can choose to go home and live out a normal life. Well… as normal as it can be for a blind lesbian, who is still struggling to find a job. I can go on as I was before and probably never do anything important, at least not on this scale. And if I decide to stay here? I'll be part of something important all right. I'll get the chance to save lives and actually do something helpful for a change. And I won't be totally cut off from people back home, right? I just won't be able to see them. Making my decision, I rub my face and say, "Okay, fine. I'll do it." I really hope I don't end up regretting this.

"Excellent. Excellent," Anderson says, clapping his hands together. "We have a busy day tomorrow so eat up and get some sleep. Your room is upstairs and to the left. All your belongings are there." With a final squeeze to my shoulder, he leaves me alone to eat.

"Wait!" I yell, calling out to him. "What about using a gun. How can I shoot anything that I can't see?"

"Don't you worry about that," Anderson calls back, trying to dismiss my doubts. "That will be fixed in the morning, and everything else will be explained."

"What do you mean?"

"Just trust me," he says as he closes the door to his room.

After a sigh, I quickly gobble down my food and clean up, wanting to see my new room. Going a little more quickly up the stairs, I turn left and feel my way to the door. Believing the room to be unfamiliar, I take it slowly and familiarize myself with everything around me. But I soon realize that I don't need to. This is an exact replica of my old room at home. To the left side of my room, I can feel my full sized bed, a bookshelf, and my nightstand with my top of the line speaker system. Moving to the right, I find my most beloved possessions, my guitar and piano.

Running my hand across the keys, I position myself on the bench. Man, I love the feel of ivory underneath my fingers. Choosing the song to best fit recent events, I begin to sing.

"Birds flying high you know how I feel  
Sun in the sky you know how I feel  
Breeze driftin' on by you know how I feel

It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me, yeah

It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me  
And I'm feeling good"

Then I begin to play.

"Fish in the sea you know how I feel  
River running free you know how I feel  
Blossom on the tree you know how I feel

It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me  
And I'm feeling good

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know  
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean  
Sleep in peace when day is done  
That's what I mean  
And this old world is a new world  
And a bold world  
For me

Stars when you shine you know how I feel  
Scent of the pine you know how I feel  
Oh freedom is mine  
And I know how I feel

It's a new dawn  
It's a new day  
It's a new life  
For me  
And I'm feeling good

I'm feeling good."

Smiling at myself all I can think is that maybe staying here won't be so bad.

* * *

AN: The song is "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone. Originally, I had "Sitting of the Dock of the Bay," but I believe this to be a better fit. I hope you agree :).

Bioware owns Mass Effect and its characters. I only own Cassie.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry for the late update and short chapter. School has just been really crazy lately with about a millions midterms and quizzes. I promise to publish the next chapter soon. Please review! :)

Anyway, here is the next chapter. Bioware owns rights to Mass Effect and all its characters. Cassie and Dr. St James are mine.

* * *

"Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep"

"Argh! Shut up!" I yell as I slam my fist against the sleep button. Unfortunately, I had a hard time sleeping last night. Yeah, this is an exact copy of my room, but it's not the same. I don't hear any of the usual sounds: the dogs barking across the street, the sounds of cars driving by, and the usual rumble of a train passing through. Not to mention the fact that I still can't believe I am in a different universe, and that I could possibly die!

But, it's too late to think about that now. My decision is made and I will have to live and… die by it. Getting out of bed, I quickly make my way to the bathroom and get dressed. Apparently, I have a big day today. I guess I will finally know what is to happen to me.

After ten more minutes, I make my way downstairs and sit at the table. Again, Anderson has taken it upon himself to feed me. This times it's cinnamon pancakes, another one of my favorites.

"Hey, there!" Anderson calls out to me from the kitchen. I hear the scratching of a spatula against a fan, and in less then minute, a mouth-watering pancake is in front of my face. "Have a good night's sleep?" Anderson asks as he sits down himself.

"Not so much," I reply with a sad sigh. "It just feels so strange…being here."

"Yeah, I understand. My first visit to your world was strange as well. It was as though I stepped through a time machine. But don't worry," Anderson said with a reassuring pat to my head. "You will get used to it."

"No I really don't think I can," I reply with my face in my hands. I just couldn't stop thinking about how ridiculous this all is. I mean come on. "I mean how do you explain that you have the voice of Keith David and that Miranda Lawson has the face and voice of Yvonne Strahovski. Can you explain how everyone here has the same voice as someone else in my universe?" As I finish my last question, my voice has risen to a nearly hysterical pitch.

"No, I can't," Anderson sighs. "I wish I could explain how I came to be or how there are multiple universes, but I can't. There just is."

I pause and let that sink in. He seems to be telling the truth… or he is just a really good liar. I guess I will just have to trust him. "Fine. I believe you. It's just so confusing. Not just the fact that there are multiple universes and people with the same faces and voices, but the fact that it's me here. ME. I mean what am I doing here? How is a blind musician going to help save the universe?"

Anderson gives himself a minute before he answers. "You're just going to be yourself… with a little help from technology."

"What?"

"You heard me. Today, we get your eyes fixed and improve some of your other abilities. Today, we are going to the doctors."

"Haha, yeah right." I roll my eyes at his absurd comment.

"I'm serious," Andersons says with a frown in his voice. "Why would I joke like that?"

"Buh…" I mumble intelligently. "That's…impossible."

"You never know until you try," Anderson laughs dismissively. "Hurry up and get ready. I will explain everything once we are there." At this Anderson, turns and leaves.

Showing off my intelligence, I sit and do nothing, dumbstruck at the possibility of gaining the ability to see. Unfortunately, I have been blind since birth so I have absolutely no concept of shapes, colors, or light in general. Sure, I can tell when there is a light in the room or when there isn't, but other than that…nothing. I can't tell if the light is harsh or soft or even know where is coming from. I can't see different shades of black or white. I can't see shadows. I see nothing. Not black, nothing. While this concept may be hard to understand, it's like me trying to understand color. I just can't wrap my head around it.

And yet, I excited at the possibility. I want to experience the world like everyone else, the one that most people take for granted. I want to watch movies, see a rainbow, watch a sunset, see a face. I just want to walk around and not bump into everything! I would do anything for that chance.

Regaining the ability to move, I quickly eat my pancakes and head into the direction Anderson left. I can't wait!

* * *

Okay, maybe I can wait. Anderson and I are standing in the middle of a dank alley that smells a lot like piss and dirt. If I could see, there would probably be a homeless man in his box house to our right and overfilled trashcans to our left. So far this place is not winning any points in my book.

Sensing my discomfort, Anderson laughs and pats my shoulder. "Not what you were expecting were you?"

"No…not at all." I mutter.

Unlocking the door in front of us, Anderson guides my through the threshold, across a long hallway, and to another set of doors. This is where it gets even odder. I hear a few beeping sounds, as though Anderson was punching in a code, and the smooth swoosh of a metal door swinging open. As Anderson once again guides me forward, the stink of piss fades away and is replaced by the smell of metal and cleaner. It almost smells like a laboratory. After a quick couple of turns, Anderson stops and walks me into a room. I am soon led to a bed and placed there.

"Welcome to the Alliance's top research facility. Sorry, for all the theatrics, but we can't have anyone know what's going on here. In a few minutes, Dr. will join us and explain the procedure that you are going to be put though. I would tell you myself, but I don't know all the details."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that David," says an unfamiliar female voice. You're a pretty smart man. Why don't give it a try?"

"Haha, you flatter me. However, I rather have someone like you explain it." Facing me again, Anderson says, "This is Dr. St James. She will be preforming your surgeries today."

"If you insist," Dr. St James smiles as she turns toward me. "Ms. Castillo, we have several procedures that we will be performing on you today. First, we have designed a special pair of lenses that that will give you the ability to see. These glasses will send any images that they pick up to a chip that will be directly implanted into your occipital lobe. Usually, we would have been able to perform a surgery on the eyes and be done with it, but your eyes never developed pupils. Your optic nerve is also seriously underdeveloped. Second, we will insert a device directly into your cerebrum. It will "download" any knowledge that Anderson believes you will need to help you and your mission. For example, the device will explain everything you see around you, such as colors, so that you will not need to be taught everything again. After it has finished "downloading," it will promptly be removed. Third, we will do some light genetic modifications that will help you stay healthy and alive, meaning you can no longer get sick and your senses will be improved. Finally, we will add heavy skin, bone, and muscle weaves that will allow you to survive firefights and improve your reflexes and agility. And…that's it. Any questions Ms. Castillo?"

Oh, I have some questions alright. If only I could close my gaping mouth and form words. After a couple more seconds, all I can say is "What?"

Laughing Dr. St James says, "Basically, we are doing everything we can to make you into a great marine. While these procedures are laborious and costly, we do not have the time to train you to be combat ready without them."

At this point, Anderson cuts in. "And if your worried about the surgery, don't be. Dr. St James here is the best surgeon around and we have the best medical staff the universe has ever produced. You're in great hands."

I guess what they are saying makes sense. I didn't expect I'd be undergoing surgery today, but what else could they do. I guess I was expecting them to just wave some magic wand over me and everything would be fine. Oh well. I will just have to go though with it. Facing Anderson, I say, "Okay, let's do this."

"Yes, that is what I want to hear!" Anderson says as he clasps me on the back, nearly knocking me off the bed. "Haha! It seems like those weaves will come in handy after all. We can't have you falling all the time."

"Yes… we can't have that," I say as I rub where he clapped me.

"I best be off," Anderson says as he moves towards the door. "Don't want to get in the doctor's way. I'll see you in a few hours," Anderson tells me with a smile in his voice.

After he leaves, the doctor turns to me. "Alright, let's get ready for your surgery. Here," she says as she trusts a gown into my arms. "Strip down and put these on. After your done, I will take you to the operating room." Giving me some privacy, the doctor steps outside and waits the minute it takes me to change. We are on our way to the room when my curiosity gets the best of me. "So what do you know about my mission?"

"Honestly, not that much," she responds as we turn a corner. "I have learned to stop asking questions. Everything that takes place here is on a need to know basis and us scientists and doctors never need to know. We just follow orders."

"So you have no idea who I am or where I'm from?"

"Well, I know you are Cassandra and that you were born blind, but other than that… no."

That's good… I guess. No need to advertise the fact that I am from a different universe. From the sound of it, we soon walk into the prepared operating room filled with surgeons and nurse. The doctor leads me to the metal table, and makes sure I am comfortable before she asks me a one last question.

"What would you like to see when you wake up?"

"I have always wondered what I looked like." The doctor doesn't say anything as she sets up my IV and heart monitor and even as she puts my oxygen mask on.

"Very well," the doctor says, as my eyes get heavy. "Very well."


End file.
